BY SANDRA MARQUEZ GARCIA

 In the land of Elianville, daily chores such as dumping trash and parking the car require police supervision. Television satellite trucks appear as if from outer space, barricades divide the block and strangers toting notebooks come knocking, asking to use the facilities.

 Life on Little Havana's Northwest Second Street has resembled The Truman Show  since Elian Gonzalez came to stay four months ago. But most residents are not fed up with the constant throng of media, police and protesters.

 They say they are thrilled to have front-row seats to history in the making, and proud to sacrifice their privacy -- and sanity -- if it means helping Miami's miracle boy remain on free soil. And a few have reaped other, more material rewards.

 The few who disagree have had to learn how to handle the jeering stares and pranks that can come with taking a different stance.

 Pat Kingsbury, 85, a 50-year resident, carries an upside down U.S. flag on his daily walks. Kingsbury, a Navy veteran who survived gunship battles in the South Pacific during World War II, said his gesture is a distress call to the world. ''I'd just like to have my freedom back, my freedom to walk around the block,'' Kingsbury said. ''I fought for that.''

 Kingsbury said he began his act of defiance after he tried to stop a group of Elian supporters from draping a Cuban flag over an American flag. Since then, he said he has received some unfriendly stares.

 ''I told them that is illegal,'' he said. ''They told me to go to hell.''

 The residential streets surrounding the home of Elian's Miami relatives are not neutral territory. Homeowners stake out their positions with signs posted on their front doors, and reporters are sometimes asked to declare their support for Elian to remain in Miami before being granted an interview.

 MILITANT STANCE

 Leonarldo Ulabarro, 15, a ninth-grader at Miami High, said the neighborhood has become much more militant.

 ''When we first moved here, we were calm people,'' Ulabarro said. ''We didn't break barriers. We respected the cops. Now, if something happens, we have to do what is right so we can protect the kid so he can stay.''

 Ulabarro, whose father is Cuban and mother is Puerto Rican, does his part by going to Elian's house every day after school. Sometimes he stays as late as 2 a.m., he said, causing him to show up late at school. But he doesn't get in trouble for the tardiness.

 ''One of my teachers sometimes comes here to protest, too,'' he said.

 There have been tales of residents reaping fabulous sums for allowing television networks to park their monster satellite trucks in their driveways and front yards, though homeowners say the claims of riches are exaggerated.

 On and off since February, Camilo Rodriguez, 39, a handyman, has allowed ABC to park two satellite trucks on his lawn at 2290 NW Second St., but insisted no money has changed hands.

 ''I know that everyone else is charging,'' he said. ''We haven't made a deal. We will talk about it once it's done.''

 NO MONEY PASSED

 ABC News producer Jean Garner said Rodriguez ''very graciously'' agreed to the arrangement, even without a promise of payment. She said the network will probably compensate him, ''but we don't want to offend the guy.''

 The circus-like atmosphere can be too much to bear for the Baños family, making them increasingly indifferent to the outcome of the custody case.

 ''We quite frankly don't care what is happening, whether he stays or goes,'' said Tony Baños, 33, a supermarket manager who moved here from Cuba 21 years ago. ''We just don't like the interruption. This is not a major part of our lives.''

 Baños blames the police and the protesters for having a bad attitude.

 ''Imagine, you work 9 to 5, then you have to go pick up the kids from the baby sitter, and then the police won't let you pull up into your own home because your driver's license doesn't have the right address,'' he said.

 It's a familiar scenario for the family. Wife Viviana hasn't updated her driver's license since moving to 2366 NW Second St., and some nights she has to call her husband on her cellular phone to ask him to fetch her and the children.

 SHOUTING MATCH

 The brewing frustration led Viviana to get into a shouting match with some protesters one night. Then she heard the blasphemous words escape from her mouth.

 ''Why don't they just send him back!'' her husband recalled his wife saying. ''She was mad. She doesn't necessarily feel that way.''

 But the damage was done. The family has since had their front gate spray-painted by vandals and is randomly awakened by pranksters ringing the front doorbell during the middle of the night, Baños said.

 There is no sign of confrontation inside the home of Mary and Eddy Rodriguez at 2314 NW Second St. A pair of self-employed watchmakers, the Rodriguezes have welcomed reporters and camera crews from around the world to file dispatches from their home -- at no cost.

 It's a bizarre scene and the couple take it as it comes. When a high-heeled reporter uproots a garden plant, Mary chalks it up to ''a casualty of war.'' A German camera crew wants to know whether they can film from the roof. It's no
 problem. ''Listen, you are going up there on your own risk,'' Mary cautions. ''Watch the tiles.''

 CUBAN COFFEE

 Inside the home, trays of fresh Cuban coffee are being served and reporters who need to use the bathroom are told to stand in line.

 For their good deeds, the couple has had to take some heat.

 On the day of the anticipated showdown between the Gonzalez family and U.S. marshals, the rumors were flying that the press corps might be ushered out before the custody transfer. In a snap, the Rodriguezes gave two networks permission to install electronic platforms on their front yard -- directly facing the Gonzalez residence.

 ''When the police say that they couldn't take away the scaffold, they said they could give me a citation for operating without a license. I shouted, 'I want to see someone stand up who says I have accepted any kind of money or reimbursement for services,' '' she said.

 No one did.

 ''We have been totally inconvenienced,'' Rodriguez said. ''This is our own little contribution to help this little boy stay.''